Harry Potter and the Hunger Games
by Raven in Flight
Summary: Harry has no idea how his name was called. Now he has to deal with: 1. Sadistic muggles with advanced technology, who enjoy watching children kill themselves. 2. A rarely sober mentor 3. Teenagers after his blood and 4. Nightmares from Voldemort. Could this summer get any better? Summer, OotP.
1. A Very Brief Prologue

A/N: I was just checking out posts on meme center and I found this: www. memecenter fun/290110 /harry-potter -hunger-games. Check it out. Just type the url (without the spaces, of course.)

"… Harry Potter."

Suddenly, a very confused- looking boy with black hair and green eyes appeared.

"Now we have our tributes for District Twelve!"

"What the bloody hell!" he yelled in an accent as he was forced up the stage. (Not the Capital one though.)

And all Katniss could think was, "He doesn't even go here…"

A/N: Just a ridiculously short prologue. Next chap. will be much more serious. Oh, and expect angst. BTW, I'm gonna update Disappear this week. Follow me? *looks hopeful


	2. The Real Deal

A/N: Here's chapter one. It's much longer than the prologue… R&R.

Fate was really screwing with my life. I just had this brilliant idea to wear my Invisibility Cloak to watch the news with my aunt and uncle. I was just grinning in triumph when, I was suddenly transported to a place I haven't been before. Wondering, if it was Voldemort's fault again. I looked around. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. No sign of the snake-faced psycho. Thank Merlin, but where was I? I was surrounded by a crowd that consisted of kids and teenagers. They had glum expressions like, "Please not me" or "We're all gonna die."

They were facing a stage, watching an odd- looking woman in a horrible pink outfit (He wasn't all about fashion but it was just so horrid and pink.) She was rummaging a hand in a sort of bowl. Everyone waited with bated breaths. The she called out the name:

"Harry Potter."

I froze, shocked. Seriously, I had enough with my name getting picked for something I haven't signed up for without my consent, mind. The crowd looked around confusedly, and seeing my expression. They started pushing me towards the stage. "What the bloody hell!" I shouted. I couldn't help it anymore. All I wanted was at least, one normal day and watch the news for signs of Voldemort. Alas, it was not to be.

Defiantly, I crossed my arms and put a haughty expression on my face (Just copy the expressions of the Slytherins, and honestly, you're good to go.) I stared at the crowd. I realised there were also adults with grim expressions on their faces. Wait, were those cameras? Pointed at me? I suddenly felt a bit conscious with my appearance. I haven't combed my hair for days. (Why bother?) At least, I put on some decent clothing. The thing I wore when Uncle Vernon's fat she-devil of a sister visited. (I didn't do the laundry yet.)

I stood next to a black- haired girl wearing a blue dress. I didn't pay attention to her or what the woman was saying much. I was too busy brooding.

We were led to a building. Me and the girl were led to separate rooms. I just sat there thinking. I had to get out of here. No, I had to find out where I was first, and then find a way to get back. I still had my wand and Invisibility Cloak. I quickly stowed them away, as the door creaked open.

"Hello," a kind- looking man said. I said a hello to him back.

"I've never seen you before," he said.

Same here, I thought. Merlin. What was I supposed to tell them? I have never been here before, please help me get out of here. They'll think that I was retarded or something. I decided to ask him where I was.

"You don't know? District Twelve. I am the mayor," he said.

"Um… I think I bonked my head hard or something. Can't remember much." I decided to pretend I had amnesia. At least, it would avoid some awkward questions.

"What do you remember?" asked the mayor.

"Er… My name. I know when my birthday is. I know my umm- age."

Oh, and I'm also a wizard, and that a psychopathic Dark Lord is trying to do me in. I know that I'm from an alternate universe, where there is no District Twelve or Capitol.

I wisely decided not to voice out the last part.

"Erm- out of curiosity, sir. What is the date today?" I asked casually.

When he said the date today, my eyes widened. Merlin's beard. I was in the freaking future. Keep a cool head, Harry. I told myself, but the voice sounded remarkably like Hermione. No use panicking.

"I might as well explain it to you then," the mayor sighed.

"The Hunger Games is an annual event. Each year, two tributes from each of the twelve districts fight to the death in an arena until only one of them remains. That person would be the victor. You were picked as the male tribute for my District."

For Merlin's sake! This was a million times worse than the bloody Triwizard Tournament. Twenty- three people had to die. With a chill, I realised to survive, I had to kill people. This can't be happening. He didn't want to be a murderer. Kill or be killed, I thought to myself. Your choice.

This is sick. They wanted kids and teenagers to kill each other. Since when had muggles turned this sadistic? Who knows? Maybe Voldemort had won, and they got inspiration from yours truly or something. The possibilities were endless.

"We have two minutes," the mayor said suddenly.

"Before what?"

"You go onboard the train to the Capitol, "he said.

Seeing my less than cheerful face. He added, "You can bring something to keep in the arena. A District Token to remind you of home."

Judging by his tone, instead of saying "to remind you of home" he should have said "to keep you sane."

Didn't stop me from grinning. The Invisibility Cloak had its use today after all. Just not for watching the news with his rotten relatives.

"Thanks mayor."

I was led to an elevator by two guards, keepers of peace? Oh sorry, Peacekeepers, they called them. There was the girl again. She's the female tribute. I wondered what she felt about getting thrown in an arena full of kids and teenagers, who are trying to do you in. She didn't look exactly enthusiastic.

I clambered in the train. I caught a glimpse of myself in a screen, I looked haughty and aloof. The girl looked almost bored. Cool. We looked bored, heading, more than likely, to our doom. Three cheers for us.

There was the woman again. You know, the one in the ugly pink outfit. Effie Trinket, the girl called her. Nice name. We were led to a compartment. Oh wow. Food. I felt like I was in the Hogwarts Express and Great Hall mixed together. The food looked really good. Then again, I was starved by my relatives for two weeks, and my standard for food may have dropped a lot of notches. I was about to dig in, when the girl asked me," Who are you?"

"Harry Potter," I said. "Your name?"

"Katniss Everdeen," she replied. Her grey eyes studied my face.

"I haven't seen you before."

I shrugged. "Me neither." I decided to tell her my excuse like with the mayor.

"I have-"I was cut off by the door opening, and a very drunk guy came in.

"Who is that?"

"Sorry, I'm late," the man said, and promptly sprayed sick on the floor.

"That's Haymitch. Previous victor of the Hunger Games, and our mentor," Katniss said, rolling her eyes at the slumped figure.

Lovely. I had a mentor that was a drunk, and rarely sober most of the time. I was_ definitely_ going to survive.

A/N: On that happy note, I decided to end it. Someone please alert this. I will love you forever, if you do. BTW, I'm accepting challenges. You're bored, I'm bored. You wanna read a story, I wanna write a story. Everybody wins!

P.S. Ehem. Don't forget to review.


	3. Look, I'm Burning

A/N: To start it off first. Let me respond to your reviews.

A-Tribute-Called-Sarah: Nice. You spotted it. Yes, it will be awesome. I actually made it real short. Only a prologue anyway, not even a real chapter.

Anonymous: I continued it. Um- don't kill me. Lol

PandA-HugS: Thanks for the advice. Yep, bumped them a little. Honestly, I wanted to posted long chapters for all my stories. Just didn't have a lot of time.

Emmaline341: Right after book 4. I've been thinking if he should bring his wand or cloak, either can work. Guess, I'll make a poll for it.

BlahBkah: Thanks .

I hope you'll all keep following this story. Continue giving me suggestions and being awesome.

…

Advice: Do not ask survival tips from a drunk guy. (Even if he did win the Hunger Games before, and mentored Tributes.)

When Katniss asked Haymitch, he said, "Stay alive."

Fat lot of help that was. We knew that much. The question is how? Twenty-four tributes and only one came out alive. Katniss and I were two people. I wanted to sigh. How could Haymitch mentor two kids, knowing that only one, or no one came back alive? Then again, he was rarely sober. Probably, didn't mentor much.

To make things worse, it turns out that the Tributes from district One and Two, actually trained for this their whole lives, and even worse, volunteered to.

Who volunteers for this? Food for you and your District aside, it was pretty insane.

Right now, Haymitch is telling us to accept the fact that there is a very large possibility that neither of us may come out alive. Good man, Haymitch.

Now he's asking us what we could do to stay alive.

"They say you're good with a bow," he told Katniss. "Not much," Katniss replied. Harry doubted it. There was a kind of flicker in her gray eyes.

What was his survival skill anyway? Surely, he had at the very least one. Surviving encounters with Voldemort, running away from Dudley, and so on. He surely had at least, one skill. He thought about it. He could run fast. He left Hermione, Ron, and pretty much everyone; in the dust. Should he tell Haymitch? Nah. Maybe, when he felt like it. So he kept silent.

What else? Running is great, especially when your opponent was big and burly and about to strangle you with his bare hands.

A thought suddenly came to me. I stared at a bread knife. Hmm…

Hermione said I had excellent aim. I took it, and aimed at a certain hole in the wall. Very small, but I liked a challenge. It worked.

I smiled triumphantly at Haymitch. Wouldn't be good if he counted me out, would it?

After our "training" session, we were free to go. This train was so cool. A compartment bedroom, complete with a shower, and a wardrobe, just for me. Bliss.

I sunk down the bed, hoping I didn't have nightmares, and fell asleep. I was able to get at least, four hours of sleep. It was a new record for me. I didn't get the most sleep this summer. Between what happened in the bloody graveyard, and visions of Voldemort. Not to mention my scar hurting. What would one expect?

When I thought it was morning, I got up, and took a shower. There were actually clothes in the wardrobe, and they even fitted me. I dressed in a green shirt and jeans. I pocketed my wand and Invisibility Cloak. It would be horrible if they found them. A magical wand, and a cloak that made you invisible. After all, they were still Muggles, albeit their technology was much more advanced.

I went to the dining room compartment, and found Katniss, Haymitch, and Effie there. They were all staring at the window.

"Good morning," I greeted. "What's so interesting about the window?"

We're here in the Capitol silly," said Effie. I looked out the window. It looked exactly like a city that might have come out of Muggle science- fiction books. It was huge and every bit as futuristic.

Then I saw aliens. I couldn't help thinking, how far into the future I've gone. Wait. They weren't aliens they were people, who looked like they had one too many, plastic surgeries. I mean- this woman's skin was green, and another one had eyelashes as long as my fingers, or longer. A man had blue hair. And their outfits. I though Effie's was horrible. The neon outfits hurt my eyes.

"Who are they?" I asked.

Effie raised her eyebrows. "The citizens of the Capitol, of course," she exclaimed.

Didn't Haymitch say something about getting them to like you for more sponsors? But honestly, I didn't fancy waving and smiling at aliens- I mean, people who looked like that. Neither did Katniss. She just stood there, poker-faced.

At least, there was one person who wasn't insane. I watched the Reaping, and it was sweet, how she volunteered for her sister. If I had a sibling, it was something I would have done, too.

…

I thought going to a spa would be relaxing. With those nature sounds, Muggles listen to, as they "wash away your troubles". Instead I feel like a wax statue that's been remodeled over, and over again.

They did a- what did they call it again? A full body polish on me, or something akin to that. I'm not really sure. They said my body was much too scarred. What did they expect? With the Voldemort and the basilisk, and whatnot.

When they finished my body was quite scar-free. They even did something on the scar on my forehead, but it didn't fade. It was a curse scar. It _did_, however, looked somewhat less noticeable, and not so inflamed.

After that, they cut and styled my hair. I have to say that they did an excellent job. My hair, instead of trying to tame it. They styled it, so it didn't look like a bird's nest. It was elegantly tousled. How they managed that I absolutely had no idea.

Thank Merlin, they didn't die my hair neon orange, or something.

"Thanks," I said sincerely at my three stylists, who looked like bizarre colorful humanoid birds with their dyed skin and hair.

"We wish you the best of luck," they all said. They looked and sounded sincere. They were actually wiping away tears.

I said a thank you again, before going off to see Portia.

Portia didn't have dyed skin, or anything like that. The only modification was her make-up. She used blue eye shadow that brought out the color of her eyes. Even her hair, and outfit was normal.

"So…" I began. "What am I going to wear?"

I was looking down at the floor, as I was only wearing a bath robe. I didn't mind it that much, when my prep team saw me starkers. But Portia actually looked human, and that made him mind, very much.

"Let's say, something that ensures that they will never forget you."

Katniss told me that the Tributes in her year, showed up in the Parade, wearing nothing but coal dust. Judging by Portia's reply… I was going naked.

…

I looked awesome. No, I was not naked. Portia was right; my costume certainly ensured that no one would forget me. I was wearing a black unitard, which fit my body quite nicely. I even wore a black cape, and since it would probably billow behind me, while riding the chariot, and that my suit will light up in flames; I was pretty sure that I'd get more than a few sponsors, and also, make Snape jealous.

Even though, I was quite skinny. I managed to pull the look off. (Thank Merlin for Quidditch training.) Thankfully, Portia didn't put much make-up on me. She just added a light foundation on my face. She didn't bother trying to hide my scar.

"Harry Potter," she said, getting a dreamy look on her face. "The boy with the lightning scar lit up in flames."

Portia was very charming. I wondered vaguely if she was like that to hide her slight insanity.

When I met Katniss, she was wearing an outfit like mine, only she had a headdress. She looked very pretty.

"Uh, you look nice," I said.

Katniss looked at me. "You don't look so bad, yourself."

"Er- thanks," it came out sounding like a question. Merlin, Hermione was right. I was hopeless.

"So can we at least try to avoid getting burned alive?" I asked, hoping to lighten the mood. Half of me, was very serious though.

"I put out your flame, you do the same with mine," she suggested.

"Deal," I agreed, getting in the chariot.

As soon as the chariot started moving, me and Katniss held hands tightly. For fear of falling out of the chariot, I didn't complain.

When the flames started, I whispered a "Look, I'm burning" to Katniss, who suppressed a laugh.

We caused quite a stir in the audience. Some were screaming at the fire, but once they seemed to get over it, seemed to be mesmerized at us. Some blokes threw roses at Katniss, and she responded by blowing kisses. You should have seen them, fight for them. It was quite entertaining.

To my surprise, I got some attention, too. Some ladies started screaming my name, and blowing kisses at me. Time to get some sponsors.

I caught them, and gave the girls, what I hoped, was a brilliant smile. I think I managed, as a few swooned, and blushed.

We somehow managed not to fall from the chariot, and reach the end. It was kind of hard to unclasp our fingers. Katniss and I had held each other in vice- like grips. Somehow, we pulled them apart. But my finger felt slightly numb. I noticed some tributes giving us sullen looks. Probably because we literally outshone them. Not our fault that our stylists were brilliant.

"You did great," Effie told us.

…

I have to admit my room was nothing short of magnificent. Right now, I'm in the Training Center. Since we were from District Twelve, we got the top floor which was the suite.

My room was even bigger than the boy's dormitory at Hogwarts. I explored the room. There was a remote control that changed the scenery of the window. I settled on the one with the starry night. It reminded me of the ceiling in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. I have to admit that I was feeling nostalgic.

There was even a bathroom, so similar to the Prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts. By that time, I was feeling a little more than nostalgic. I felt homesick. How could I get back? I thought about using my Patronus to send a message to Sirius, or perhaps, Dumbledore.

I imagined a huge silver stag travelling through time and space; only to arrive in Dumbledore's office, and Dumbledore's shocked face, as the stag spoke with my voice. _Um- this is Harry. I'm stuck in the future. I have to_ _compete in a deadly competition. Help?_

That was the best plan I could think of. I just hoped it would work.

A/N: Extra-long chapter for you guys. Anyway, what do you think of Harry's POV? An angsty Harry isn't much fun. I love a cheeky Harry much better. But what do you think? Ehem, review.

P.S. Wand or Cloak as a District token? Vote now!


	4. Fun with Ice Sculptures

A/N: Another chapter finished. BTW, check out my story Disappear if you like PJ & HP crossovers.

_Katniss POV_

Harry Potter… Who is Harry Potter? Sure, I wasn't the most sociable person in District Twelve, but I would have heard of him at least since. I never heard of his parents. I've never seen him before the Reaping. He didn't even look like he was from District Twelve. Usually, people from District Twelve have black hair and grey eyes, or blonde hair and blue eyes. Black hair and green eyes? It was unheard of. He could've passed off as someone from Four. Then again the green of his eyes were different. They looked like the gem from District One, emeralds.

There was also the matter of his accent. It wasn't the Capitol one, but it was well, different.

It was like that he wasn't from here. Not from the Capitol or any District…

I couldn't even decide if he was friend, or foe.

Yes. He covered for me. When I recognized the red-haired Avox, he told Haymitch and Effie that it was probably someone who looked like her from my District. He seemed nice enough, too. He didn't snob me. He even hinted that we should be allies in the arena; to tell the truth, he seemed like a good ally, and probably was.

I felt like such an idiot when I refused, but I couldn't help it. I cannot stand betrayal. I decided long ago that I would fend for myself and Prim.

I gazed at the starry sky. The question remains: Who is Harry Potter?

_Haymitch POV_

As a mentor in the games, there are moments that I feel helpless. I feel sorry for the ones chosen at the Reaping. I feel sorry for them when I realise that they had no chance for survival. If they did. Even the least chance of it, I had a strategy.

I had one for Katniss and Harry. They both had a chance at winning. I've heard of Katniss' archery skills, and I still remembered Harry's aim with the butter knife at the train.

I had two choices. I could pair them up. The star- crossed lovers from District Twelve, or perhaps, the-siblings-in-all-but-blood tactic. The Hunger Games was a television show. They'd let both of them survive if that was what the viewers wanted.

I just hoped that they'd survived long enough to work. For now…I grabbed my liquor bottle.

…

I suck at tying knots.

Right now, I'm in the Training Center with Katniss, and the other Tributes. I tried not to watch the other Tributes, especially the Careers, as they went to the dangerous weapons section, and took down dummies with ease, like, "In the Arena, you're going to die just like this dummy!" as the poor dummy was stabbed in the heart and other vital places.

The other Tributes weren't much better. Were they all built among the lines of Crabbe and Goyle? Merlin, even the girls were taller than me, including Katniss, and the others towered over her! I was probably- no, I was the shortest Tribute, unless you counted Rue, who's only twelve.

I haven't quite reached my growth spurt yet. I was expecting it on my birthday, which is on: The finale of the Hunger Games!

I tried not to imagine one of the Careers, perhaps, singing Happy Birthday to me as they stabbed me in the back.

I gave up on the knot, I was tying, and headed off to the station where you learned about plants. I was never interested in plants or Herbology that much, but I preferred not to starve to death. Then again it was only a week and a few days. Trust me, I had much worse with the Dursleys, but I did want to have a growth spurt. I decided to stay. Good thing, I did. I learned about nightlock, it looked like very edible blue berries, and turned out to be poison. "You'll be dead in a minute!" the instructor had said.

Over the next three days of training, I went to every station. From building snares and throwing knives. I felt rather prepared for my private session with the Gamemakers. I hoped that I would at the very least, get a score of seven.

…

I shifted uncomfortably as each name was called. I would be the last one. "Katniss Everdeen."

"Good luck," I mumbled to Katniss, and I was alone. I felt like I was in the tent again, the one in the First Task. At least, you're not facing a dragon, I thought. "Only the Muggles that will make sure your life is a misery in the arena," a voice continued.

"Harry Potter." With a feeling of dread, I went in. The Gamemakers looked rather startled. One of them looked like he was having a panic attack. I hid a smirk. There was a bow shot clean through an apple that belonged to the roasted pig. Good one, Katniss.

Through all the commotion, they hadn't noticed me. I cleared my throat loudly. They didn't notice. I did it again. No one noticed. I was fuming. In the Wizarding World, I hated people staring at me and my scar. Now that I needed them to stare at me, they bloody wouldn't.

My gaze flickered to the throwing knives, and back to the Gamemakers again. There was an ice statue…

I decided to take a leaf out of Katniss's book. I got a knife, and aimed it at the very center of the statue. It hit, dead center, and I have no idea how, but it shattered.

Some of them screamed. I cleared my throat again. "Harry Potter," I bowed.

Perfect. I definitely had their attention. I grabbed the set of throwing knives, and ran. Hitting each dummy as I passed. They all looked quite impressed. "Thanks for the attention," I said, bowing again.

…

I was nervous. They were going to announce the scores any minute. What was I going to get? A four? Like the one Karkaroff gave me in the First Task?

Effie was mad at us, and gave Katniss and I, glowering looks. Something about disrespect. (The private training session with the Gamemakers.)

Haymitch approved though. And I just knew that I was going to get a four. I didn't watch the scores of the Careers. They probably got tens. The only score that I bothered to pay attention to was Rue's, she got a seven. I wonder what she did.

I tensed as my name was called. At least, I looked decent in my picture. Caesar was making a face before he announced my score. I winced. Yep. Definitely getting a four. Then again, judging by his face, it was lower.

"With the score of-" Just spit it out Caesar. "Of eleven."

I didn't expect that coming. Katniss got an eleven, too.

"To the girl on fire, and the boy with the lightning scar," toasted Cinna.

And for a second, I forgot about the games, and focused on celebrating.

A/N: Tell me what you think? I hope I got Katniss and Haymitch right. Oh, and about Harry's height; it isn't his birthday yet, so he must be quite short. Poor Harry is going to have a growth spurt in the arena, or none at all. As for the lack of angst, I hate an angsty Harry. I love a cheeky/ sarcastic/ funny one much better.


	5. Talk With the Blue- Haired Man

A/N: I'm alive! So don't fret folks. Sorry for the readers of Disappear. I'm still working on the next chapter. Anyway, be glad that there's an update as I should be studying right now. Then again I'm not exactly studious… Let me respond to your lovely reviews first:

Oh I am Slain: Ah, I am so embarrassed. Thanks for pointing out those mistakes. Yes, canon will be (more or less) followed. No, I won't introduce anymore characters from the HP universe. Not until Harry gets back anyway. For the explanation, you have to wait a looonnnggg time for that. Oh, and thanks. I'm glad that loads of you think this is awesome.

Shirley: Let me enlighten you… about growth spurts. Harry expects to have his growth spurt _around_ his birthday. Me, being me, will let Harry have his growth spurt in the arena. Actually, Harry is already growing. Did that clear things up for you? If not. Well, not my problem.

…

Being me never does make one catch a break. After the celebration (Which included a very drunker than usual Haymitch, and a tasty lightning bolt- shaped cake that lit up in synthetic flames.), I promptly trudged up my room, and collapsed on the bed. Hoping to get a good rest.

Unfortunately, Voldemort had other plans. Old snake- face (He was really living up to the nickname. Looking exactly like a snake-man hybrid. He wouldn't exactly be out of place in the Capitol.)

He was furious, and made quite a show of torturing a poor Death Eater who'd screwed up; knowing full well that it would affect me.

My scar burned quite nastily. All the while, he demanded to know where I was. Future or not. Alternate universe or not. Of course, I wouldn't tell him.

He spent an awful lot of time of putting the guy under the Cruciatus Curse, and I just knew that this little "session" was specially planned for a certain someone called Harry Potter.

The git figured it out, I guess. If he tortures someone, my scar- let's just put it this way, sometimes I fantasize about scraping it off to make it stop.

Suffice to say, I wasn't exactly what you'd call well-rested and ready for the day. I had very horrible eye bags, and my face was pale. Definitely not well- rested.

To make matters worse, today was the day of the interview. How could I get sponsors when I looked like death warmed over?

I had a feeling that Portia was going to use more make- up than usual. I shuddered. The horror.

I decided to wash my face, and take a shower. Wondering, if it would even make a slight improvement on my appearance.

…

Breakfast was a tense affair. Effie was nagging that Katniss should be more ladylike, and Haymitch kept on insisting that Katniss should NOT be herself. Same was true for me, according to Haymitch.

"You have to make people like you," he insisted. "Both of your aiming was great, but it will not help getting you sponsors if you shoot a knife or bow at them."

He had a point. But what was wrong being our great selves?

He also said that we had better act like we were the best of friends, or no goodies for us in the arena. We agreed. I had no problems. Katniss was the closest thing that I had to a friend even if we didn't talk much. Portia was great, too.

I was glad when I got out to see Portia until I remembered the bloody interview.

"You look horrible." Was Portia's greeting. Great woman, Portia.

She started styling my hair. The-my-hair-is-tousled-and-is-still-better-than-yo ur hairstyle was becoming my signature look. Portia was wondering if I could smuggle some hair wax in, or perhaps, some sponsor would do it for her.

I winced as she put some foundation on my face. She expertly hid my eye bags with a touch of concealer.

"Much better," she commented.

I wore a black suit. Simple but stylish. I faced the mirror. I looked quite good. I was glad that I'd gotten rid of my glasses, and wore contact lenses.

Their contact lenses were much better than the one currently in the Muggle world. I didn't even have to take them off that much.

"Are you ready for your interview, Harry?"

…

Portia's advice was the exact opposite of Haymitch's. Be yourself, she had said. Pretend that you're talking to a friend. I was going to be the last person to be interviewed. I was quite the bundle of nerves.

Sure, you can face the Horntail but couldn't even talk in front of an audience. I chided myself. I couldn't help it. I couldn't stand being in the spotlight.

It wasn't helping that I had to talk in front of aliens- er, Capitol citizens, the Gamemakers, and President Snow. Who reminded him of Dumbledore. A much more sadistic, and with a much shorter beard, one. Oh, and minus, the lemon drops, and also, add some roses.

I vaguely wondered if this was the Dumbledore in this universe. I pushed the thought away. That would be too creepy.

Since I was the male Tribute from (supposedly) District Twelve, I was going to be the last one interviewed.

When it was Katniss' turn that was when I actually paid attention to the screen. Katniss looked very nice in her gown, it gave the illusion of flickering flames when she moved. Cinna was an excellent stylist.

The host, Caesar Flickerman was a very enthusiastic guy with vivid blue hair, olive skin, and a dazzling Lockhart- like smile. The interview went on smoothly enough. I never knew that Katniss could be so- girly. When I met her, she didn't seem to be the type that's all giggly. Not that she's a tomboy or anything. Then again, perhaps, she remembered Haymitch's advice to not be herself. It worked though. A lot of guys were drooling, so I suppose, they would be her future sponsors.

I was jerked from my thoughts when I heard my name being called, and repeated twice. I sprinted to the stage.

"Am I late?" I asked, panting slightly.

"Just a few seconds," answered Caesar. "Let's start the interview! So tell me Harry, is it true you've got amnesia?"

"Yes. I think I bonked my head a bit hard. Can't remember much."

"What do you remember?" he asked in interest.

"Uh, my name," I said.

"Poor Harry," he sympathized. I got an awful lot of sympathetic looks and cooing from the audience. I flashed them a smile in thanks.

"I'm curious how you and Katniss got scores of eleven. What did you do?"

"Umm." I glanced at the Gamemakers. "Let's say it was an attention- catcher."

A few Gamemakers nodded, and some chuckled.

"Ah mysterious, I see. You know, you have the most stunning eyes?"

"Why thank you, Caesar. They do say it's my best feature," I said and fluttered my eyelashes for effect.

"That's true. Though, people from District Twelve usually have grey or blue eyes…"

"I'm special then," I quipped.

"That you are Harry, that you are," beamed Caesar.

"Thanks Caesar. And you have the most vivid blue hair, it suits you perfectly," I said.

Caesar waggled his finger at me. "You're quite the charmer."

"Thanks a lot, though I think Haymitch disagrees," I replied.

"Oh really. How?"

"I may have lost my temper and made a mark on the wall,'' I said.

Caesar chuckled. "Understandable."

"What do you think of your fellow tribute, Katniss? Friend? Ally? Lover?"

I blushed. "I love her like a sister! Siblings in all but blood really."

"Alright-" Caesar was cut off by the buzzer.

"Time's up! Well, I think we'll be remembering you Harry Potter. A round of applause for the Boy with the Lightning scar!"

There was a very loud eruption of applause from the audience. I grinned, and waved goodbye. I made my way backstage.

Success.

"I told you, you'd do well," said Portia.

"Of course, I do well," I said, puffing out my chest.

Portia fondly rolled her eyes at me.

"Come on, I know you love me…"

"Brat."

"I'm endearing."

…

After talking to Portia and Katniss, I went up my room.

"That was fun," I collapsed on my bed.

I felt so happy…

Then I remembered that I was going to the arena tomorrow.

It put quite a damper on my good mood.

I stared at the door. As though expecting someone- Dumbledore perhaps, with Sirius crashing it, and shouting, "We're here to take you back Harry."

But no one came.

A/N: R & R. Not sure if I'm particularly fond of this chapter. Anyway, Harry goes in the arena next chapter. Stay tuned and thanks for the continued support!


	6. Reality TV

A/N: Nope, I'm not dead. Sorry, so sorry. I left you guys hanging there but hey, new chapter! I'm still not free o.f schoolwork. I have my math assignment right beside me. It's like this:

Me: Are you going to give us homework?

Teachers: Always.

All: O_o

Anyway, let's respond to your reviews first:

Sakura Lisel: Harry is never going to have a break in this story. Even if he's in an AU or in the far future. In my defense, the connection's still there and Voldemort is still alive in the "past."

Oh I am Slain: You'll just have to wait and see. I was kind of expecting a lot of errors in that particular chapter as I was half-asleep at the time and I actually fell asleep on my keyboard…Moving on.

Petaldawn: Of course, I will. I can't imagine myself abandoning this one. Besides, I don't want to be that type. After all, I've been tortured by abandoned stories.

thehunter1988: Thanks!

Miu1: Thank you for the support.

Sadsabrin: I'll try to update as fast as I can.

Daleksmustdie: A bit too late for that.

MelodyPond: That's just plain cheating. Bad Harry.

Amelia Pond: You'll see.

Hermione Weasly: S Anyway, I love that line too. I adore funny Harry.

P.S. Have you guys read Kane Chronicles by Rick Riordan. Awesome book. Anyway, I was basing my writing style from it. You know, the sentences starting with conjunctions and so on. I know it's strictly speaking wrong but a bit of consideration, please. As for the spelling and other grammatical errors, all my fault but I do appreciate it when you point them out for me.

…

I'm nervous. Fine, I was bloody scared. I admit it. I was going to go in the arena and well, you know what will happen. It was like one of those bad Muggle reality television shows. Only, instead of just getting eliminated, you get killed. Go figure. There's a horrible churning in my stomach, and I'm pretty sure if I looked at my reflection, my face would be a pale green. (Finally starting to fit in!)

I hate this. I hate the mess I'm in. This was even worse than the Dursleys! Trust me, that's saying something. At least, I wouldn't be in a kill-or-be-killed situation. I hate the person who suggested the idea of the Hunger Games. I hate President Snow. I hate the Capitol… Yeah, a lot of things in the what I hate list tonight.

How do I even manage to get in these messes?

By me being me, of course. I guess the whole thing was starting to sink in. It astounds me why I don't have post-traumatic stress disorder or something of the sort. I mean, fighting huge snakes at twelve, almost getting your soul sucked, burning a man to death, seeing Voldemort's face… I think that by far _was_ the most traumatizing event in my life.

I don't think my luck would push through after this, though. If not for anxiety attacks, I'd probably get a load of nasty nightmares.

I guess Fate hates me or maybe, she finds my torment amusing.

I wonder if the other Tributes are sleeping. Are they like me? Fidgeting on the bed and brooding or fast asleep, dreaming of the money and luxuries that come with winning.

I'm sure that Katniss is in the same boat with me. The Careers, not so much.

I should really sleep or just rest. Merlin forbid that I collapse out of exhaustion in a life-death situation that would most likely make Professor Trelawney's ramblings true.

I closed my eyes. It simply wouldn't do if I did in fact, pass out. Definitely not good for my health, I mused.

With that, I fell asleep dreaming of blackness.

…

I was not pleased. A frantic Portia was dressing me up for the arena. She used a terrifying amount of gel on my hair. I had a feeling that Portia very much wanted to find a way to smuggle in some hair gel in the arena. As it was, she was applying very generous amounts of it on my hair.

"Quite done yet?"

Portia shushed me and continued with her styling.

When Portia was finally done, I was able to dress up in a pair of khaki pants, a green shirt and a jacket. It was black and fell down to my thighs.

Portia surveyed my whole appearance. I stared back. I could tell what she was silently saying to me. Something like _you better win the games_or _you better not waste my stock of hair gel_. I'm thinking both.

Instead, she murmured a good luck and patted my back.

I whispered a thanks back, and she suddenly hugged me. I was touched. The only women who've hugged me were Mrs. Weasley and Hermione.

I smiled and admittedly, got a bit teary. (I'd deny it later.)

"Oh, and before I forget." She started rummaging in her pockets and pulled out.

My wand!

The familiar warmth spread through my fingers as I touched it.

"Why you would choose a twig for your district token, I'll never know," she said.

I grinned at the supposed twig. Ah, the ignorance of Muggles. For all the advanced technology that they were able to produce they were still blissfully ignorant of magic. A fact that I was very grateful for.

I jumped as I suddenly heard a cool female voice say twenty seconds.

"Time to go," Portia said.

We didn't make the goodbyes longer and I stepped in the elevator.

…

"Ow," I murmured as they inserted the tracker in my arm. Katniss had a blank expression on her face as they did the same to her.

The Careers were actually grinning. I bet they were excited for the bloodbath that was about to commence. Smug gits.

My mind's full of a blank buzz. I was hardly aware of where we were, what we were doing, and even, who I was.

I started to get a grip on reality when the voice said fifty eight seconds. Don't get off yet or you'll suffer similar effects to a particularly powerful Bombarda, Harry. I reminded myself.

Fifty-nine seconds…

Haymitch's voice echoed in my head. Run and find water, it kept on repeating like a mantra.

Like hell was I going empty-handed. Gathering the famous Gryffindor courage, I ran. A good thing that running was one of my skills.

I was speedy and agile. Before anyone was even preparing to sprint, I ran like my life depended on (it actually did) and grabbed two backpacks and a random weapon that I managed to pass by.

I didn't dare to look back. I just hoped that Katniss would be fine. She'd probably try to do the same I did and all I could do was pray that she was successful.

I didn't stop running until I was sure that I was in a far enough distance.

I looked at my surroundings. It reminded me eerily of the Forbidden Forest. Hopefully, there were not much of those dangerous animals or Muggle experiments gone wrong. Perhaps, I could even have a chat with a nice snake and make it find a stream or something.

I checked the contents of the packs. The first contained a sleeping bag, crackers, beef strips, wire, sunglasses, iodine, and an empty water bottle. The gits didn't even bother filling it up. The next one had pretty much the same except that it had bandages and matches instead of a sleeping bag and sunglasses.

I mixed the contents together in one bag and threw away the other one. It was neon red versus neon green. I opted for the green.

Couldn't they have picked more inconspicuous colors for the packs? Sadists.

The sun was setting and it was starting to get chilly.

I didn't dare light a fire; it would've only been slightly better than a neon sign saying, FREE KILL HERE.

There wasn't much to do except rest and that was exactly what I did. When I was nodding and my eyes were starting to fall shut, I just hoped that a murderous tribute didn't find me.

…TEASER for next chapter…

Oh my.

I was surrounded by grinning Tributes. Careers.

They weren't grinning in a mischievous or happy way. It was in a blood-thirsty one. Like prey finding a helpless predator.

Yes, I was officially screwed. I hoped that Portia would forgive me for wasting her hair gel.

A/N: Sorry for any mistakes. Anyway, I'll try to update next week. I'm not sure but I'll try. Maybe two chapters after a while? I'll do my best. For now, REVIEW. Please, its my only motivation.

P.S. Can you please check out Of Aftermaths & Diaries? It's a one-shot based off this. It's about the aftermath when Harry goes back.


End file.
